Flangst
by CitrusLove
Summary: Unfinished, fluff angst. Matt/Mello, currently one-sided.
1. Chapter 1

I'm not sure what to say about this one... But it will be canon, angsty and dark. With the odd fluffy moment(hence the 'fl' in 'flangst')

Review ! I'm only doing this if I people like it.. *hopeful face*

* * *

Harsh wind blew loudly in ears; tickling bare necks and brutally numbing the ends of noses.

This annual experience reminded everyone walking within the crowded streets that time was running out—there were four more days and stock was becoming less and less. Mother turned against mother as she slammed into department stores: books, clothes, toys for little Steve or little Louis, music vouchers for the 16-year olds, candles for the sisters.

This organized chaos sounded through the entirety of the United Kingdom, and Winchester was no exception.

* * *

**Crash.**

"Well obviously you want scream and cry, Mello. It's not everyday someone gets utterly bashed in a human-biology test by a miniscule albino."

**Crash. **

Mello didn't miss this time.

Matt shouted some colourful German before raising his auburn bangs. "Sorry. I won't attempt to sympathize next time."

"You know what Matt? I think I'm doing you a favour. If you would just a grip on reality and start seeing how freaking INHUMANLY retarded Near actually is, you wouldn't be trying to snuff my justified anger."

Mello huffed his chest out evenly; his fingers involuntarily scratching the fabric of his dark jeans and curling into fists every second Matt continued on his DS. Matt rolled over, kicking off his striped socks as he did so, "Man, I just don't want to be a part of that. I wish YOU'D get a grip and realise as much as Near makes you work your ass off, he's also stopping you from getting any better."

Mello seethed and tore a little of his bottom lip and bit too quickly. Lunchtime was cloudy, and the dull grey clouds brought blinding light through the volatile boys' bedroom.

Mello could appreciate this time of year with a bitter stance. The weather was shitty, but intensified the need for everyone to be brought together. Yes, Mello thought, everyone became sentimental lunatics and ran their credit cards dry. All for the sake of a 'thank-you' from the family, and laughter and giggling and all that muck that made Mello's chest knot in incomprehensible ways.

Mello could _appreciate_ it, though. He saw this as a sign of maturity in his teenage years; he could understand the opportunities to change or renew, even if they never happened. He recognised that as depressing a time of year Christmas could be, it also brought light to the things to be grateful for.

And believe me, Mello was a grateful adolescent. Barely fourteen, Mello worked and strived for excellence in all areas—psychology, classical studies, biology, geography, criminology, German, Latin, Japanese, French, English, Russian, Greek, critical thinking, philosophy, _human biology _(he thought with a sickened face), physics, chemistry... All for the hope that he'd be the best prepared. The key word being _best_. How could he accomplish this goal with this, this..._robot_ continuously upping him in every test, exam, interview, observation?! It was more than a tad unfair.

Casually and confidently striding down the darkened-oak hall, lined with high doorways where each student was residing in, Mello quickly ran down the stairs, crossing to the left and making his way to the half of the school where the teachers and caretakers were located. He halted abruptly outside Roger's door and knocked twice, loudly and angrily.

Inside, Roger felt his eye-lids droop a little in approximated unison with each knock. Of course, Mello was here to shake his blonde-head in a feral-fashion and demand to see what errors he made in the latest exam. After bidding him to enter, Roger shifted his work to the side and motioned for Mello to sit in one of the chairs facing his cluttered desk.

Mello scowled for a moment at the small Christmas decorations blinking at him around the room and then cleared his voice loudly.

"Roger, I came to see the human-biology test. I have to say I don't see the logic here. I studied for hours and hours, while _Near_ was in the recreation-room stacking whatever garbage he sorts through all day. He got 100%." Mello let his eyes glimmer with unashamed jealousy under his fringe.

"His behaviour shows nothing, no desire to study at all. Are you telling me he's so smart to have understood and memorized everything we learnt in the three-hour prep class?"

Roger furrowed his brows in an exasperated manner. "I'm not saying anything, Mello. You have to understand that everyone studies differently..." Roger immediately wanted to take back that comment. He peered from under his glasses at the insulted look that warped Mello's fair face.

"Don't patronize me! You know as well as I do Near doesn't do anything!" Mello tightened his grip on his jeans and stood up, hand outstretched. "Paper."

Roger opened the top drawer, filtering through a couple of folders before drawing out Mello's results and handing it to the still outstretched palm. Snatching it, Mello lets his eyes roam over each question, and his gut squeezed as he saw his mistakes. Mistakes. Something Near wasn't capable of.

* * *

Matt leaned against the window, the cool glass neutralizing a little of the tension built up in his head. Which had nothing to do with Mario Cart. He felt himself wilting a little as he realised that even though he did not stress, when he did it always drew back to one person. That sensation ran through his torso again and Matt sighed into another conversation he remembered. Back peddling in time was not a great habit, but when everyone else was whispering excited murmurs of crushes and Christmas, it was becoming hard to resist.

* * *

_So ? I suppose the chapters are short.. I'm trying to set it up a little, before I go in full-force. -___-"_


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the alerts guys.. But I need reviews ! :P

It seems so boring atm.. There's so much I want to do.. Especially with Mello. He seems rather versatile -evil grin-

Again, review ! Sorry this took ages to update.. (hides from impending sharp objects.)

* * *

Every year, Christmas brought with it a familiar symbol presented to Wammy's House on a desktop. The children, genii as they are, could quite easily see through the commercialism that was the essence of modern day Christmas-time, so Roger had organized L to be in touch, to give the holiday season new meaning to the forty or so successors staying at the orphanage.

The first three—Near, Mello and Matt, attended a separate meeting with the lonesome laptop in Roger's office, which, considering the latest round of resentment from at least one party, was going to be rather awkward.

L, always informed, could only do so much to ease away the snide looks criss-crossing the room, and from the webcam he noticed Mello's eyes become slits as he frowned at Roger's messy desk-area.

Despite Matt's closeted feelings, Mello's pent-up frustration and Near's general apathetic demeanour, all were silent in a mutual respect for the man they aspired to be and someday, much to the others' annoyance, become him.

Well, not _become_ him, Mello continued to think in an irritated tone, but to become what he _represented._

And that was justice, in its purest form. To look at cases objectively and pick up on the subtleties; all the while travelling the world, staying in fancy hotels and putting scum away the PROPER way. With style and handcuffs, dangling from a pair of shiny leather gloves.

Mello noticed Matt showing a similar face to his, simply knowing from years and years of camaraderie, that his best friend was thinking the same thing: Kira. Kira.

_KIRA._

What a joke, Mello smirked, a small proud feeling lightening his chest as he traced the outline of L's 'L' with his eyes, remembering his idol's challenge shown in Japan in vivid detail.[which, of course, was shown to all the children at the lounge, who watched with wide eyes and smiles]

Oh yes, he wanted to be L. The power, the luxury, the **chocolate**... Mello's tongue got that sensitive feel to it as he nostalgically felt for his back pocket, the rustle of a half-empty bar soothing his teenage angst.

"Everyone," L began, buzzing the teenagers out of their reveries, "Although you all have different talents, and are all capable of becoming the next L," Near's eyes flickered to Matt for a moment; as if just realising he was there. L ignored it.

"I want to set some tests. Actually, Watari will arrange them as set challenges for each of you. I will observe and take notes, and this will give me a better idea if you truly are the best prepared for my position."

All boys felt the tension thicken a little, Mello toying with the broken chocolate in his hand, which was melting and quickly becoming irritating. Matt was shifting around on his feet, impatient. Near stayed inhumanely still, which added to the heavy mound of annoyance weighing down on Mello's shoulders.

"You are all to try solve the Marauder Murder case first, preferably before New Years. You will be given clues on the way, depending on where you look, or who you talk to. Then again, it could be where you _don't_ look and who you _don't_ talk to."

Mello and Matt stared at each other; _who you don't talk to..? _

"Whoever solves this first... not only gains a higher percentage of becoming my successor, but will accompany me to Japan to help in the Kira case, using your skills you have learnt.. Of course, you will be working with me from the shadows, even kept a secret from the Japanese police..."

Mello felt a rush fly through him.

_Japan. Kira._

The perfect tools he needed to finally beat Near.

* * *

Idk Idk.. Idk.


End file.
